


The Call of the Wild

by blackmountainbones



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bigfoot - Freeform, Bloodplay, Day Six, Dom Otabek, Dom/sub, Dry Humping, Feral, Frottage, JJBek Week, JJBek Week 2017, M/M, Sasquatch, Supernatural - Freeform, Yeti - Freeform, but just a little bit, if you're a furry but for cryptids does that make you a blurry?, jj is a bitch pass it on, jj's cryptid kink, light bigfoot roleplay, sub JJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 14:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmountainbones/pseuds/blackmountainbones
Summary: When JJ invites Otabek to his family's cabin in the Quebec wilderness, it seems like the perfect opportunity to do something about the weird homoerotic tension that's been simmering between them ever since Otabek came to Canada to train. However, both boys are too repressed to make the first move... at least until JJ lets a secret slip...My entry for JJBek Week Day 6: Supernatural!





	The Call of the Wild

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheInsaneFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInsaneFox/gifts), [KinoGlowWorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinoGlowWorm/gifts).



> this is 100% [@kinoglowworm](http://archiveofourown.org/users/KinoGlowWorm/pseuds/KinoGlowWorm)’s fault. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID. 
> 
> happy extremely belated birthday [@theinsanefox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInsaneFox/pseuds/TheInsaneFox)! this technically DOES fulfill your “otabek domming the hell out of jj” birthday prompt, just with more Bigfoot that you maybe expected....
> 
> thanks to all the fandom peeps who beta'd this for me: [@kinoglowworm](http://archiveofourown.org/users/KinoGlowWorm/pseuds/KinoGlowWorm), [@theinsanefox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInsaneFox/pseuds/TheInsaneFox), [@phayte](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Phayte/pseuds/Phayte), [@meimagino](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Francowitch/pseuds/Francowitch). i'd be so much less terrible without you.

The fire crackled as JJ tossed more firewood into the flames. He looked every bit the Canadian woodsman in his worn jeans and oversized flannel as he strategically piled more kindling into the firepit.

Otabek had never thought that Jean-Jacques Leroy could be so...  _ masculine _ . Back in Montreal, he was a mama’s boy through and through, a mama’s boy who danced like a marionette on the ice, loved fashion, and was incredibly vain. As hot as Otabek had thought City JJ was, he had to admit that he might like Country JJ even more. Country JJ hadn’t even bothered to shave the stubble that was growing in patches along his chin and his upper lip, and Otabek kept thinking about what the bristly hairs would feel like against his skin.

Otabek had to take a deep swallow of his beer to fight the moan that threatened in his throat. He’d always thought JJ was hot in a way that went beyond simple aesthetic appreciation, and  the man was even hotter in the woods--confident with both a compass and a rifle, able to tell the time by the angle of the sun. He had all kinds of apocalypse skills that impressed a city boy like Otabek, who was an inside person by nature.  

A mosquito buzzed at his ear, and Otabek reflexively swatted it away. The quiet of the tundra was different from the mountains of Almaty--it was alive with the sound of crickets, mosquitoes, and other buzzing things. Otabek had thought the tundra was a dead place, but he had only ever before seen it during the winter. In the summer, it was full of life, mostly insects.

Another mosquito landed on his ankle, and Otabek swatted it away. The damn bug escaped with its life, and Otabek scratched the resulting welt absentmindedly.

“Somebody has sweet blood,” JJ teased when he caught him scratching. 

Otabek gave him a confused look. Was that a joke...? Even after having lived in Montreal for two years, he still didn’t understand Canadian humor. 

“‘Cause the mosquitos keep biting you,” JJ explained. He was good at that, noticing when Otabek got confused, explaining all the weird French and English idioms.

Oh. Otabek scrunched his forehead in contemplation. Was that... flirting? He hated how all his communication with Jean Jacques had to be filtered through a third language.

But then again... why else would JJ have invited him out here, to the old family cabin in the middle of nowhere, just the two of them, if he hadn’t been intending to finally  _ do _ something about the weird homoerotic tension that had been simmering between them ever since Otabek had come to train in Montreal two years ago?

JJ pushed a bottle of something into his hand. “You want some more lotion?”

Otabek rolled his eyes. “I don’t think that stuff works, dude. We should have gotten bug spray, not weird hippie bug lotion.”

“No way, dude. There’s cancer in those sprays,” JJ argued. “This stuff is all natural.” He kneeled down next to Otabek, who lay on the ancient quilt they’d dragged next to the fire. 

Otabek gave him another bemused smirk, and JJ huffed a sigh. “Fine. If you’re not gonna put it on, I’m gonna put it on for you.”

Before Otabek could react, JJ had already begun rolling up the hem of Otabek’s jeans. He squirted a handful of the lotion into his palm, then began spreading the greasy stuff over Otabek’s calf. He kept rubbing Otabek’s muscles, even after the lotion had soaked in.

“I didn’t know you were such a hippie,” Otabek said, deciding to let JJ continue his massage. 

Jean-Jacques just shrugged. “Oh. My parents hate it,” he admitted. “They think I’m going to get dreadlocks and start eating weed brownies for breakfast if I wear a pair of Birkenstocks, you know?”

Otabek made an affirmative sound. JJ’s parents were extremely conservative, attending Mass every Sunday, their eleven children never anything less than impeccably dressed, even the toddlers. Otabek’s experience had been so different--with all the training he’d done overseas, he’d been allowed to grow into himself in ways JJ hadn’t. 

It had been easier, perhaps, to admit that he liked boys as well as girls, thousands of miles from the expectations of his family. Even so, his parents were much more liberal than JJ’s, and had accepted Otabek’s sexuality immediately. He couldn’t help but suspect that perhaps JJ would not have it so easy.

It explained why, despite the months of tension, they had never kissed, never done more than engage in the kind of flirting that could be explained away as just bros being bros. Otabek understood--in Montreal, no matter where you looked, there was always a Leroy around the corner. But here, at the country house, all the Leroys were either long dead or two hundred kilometers south, and JJ was finally confident enough to rebel a bit.

He glanced down at JJ, whose fingers continued working a particularly stubborn knot below his knee. Though JJ was clearly skilled at massage, his fingers trembled against Otabek’s skin as they kneaded. 

Otabek was struck with another pang of wanting. He took another sip of his beer, contemplating. 

JJ released Otabek’s calf, then began rolling up the other pant leg. He continued the massage with fresh lotion, which smelled strongly herbal against the woodsmoke from the fire which crackled, the sudden noise making the quiet seem all the more profound. “It must be hard,” Otabek said, barely louder than a whisper.

JJ’s forehead scrunched, and he applied deeper pressure to Otabek’s Achilles tendon. He let out an involuntary soft groan, and JJ’s face softened. “Yeah.” He took a deep, shaking breath. “Like, I hate to complain, because I have a great family and great coaches and I love them very much. But sometimes I wish it was easier to be--myself around them.” His hands stilled on Otabek’s calf, cradling the muscle softly but no longer massaging.

It seemed Otabek should do something--comfort him, maybe. But before he could figure out how, JJ had already rolled down his pant leg and rocked to his feet, walking over to the cooler. He grabbed two beers, tossing the second to Otabek, who quickly drained the last sips of his open beer, then cracked open the fresh can. The two of them sat shoulder-to-shoulder by the fire, drinking and watching the flames in silence while trying not to notice the constant glances they stole at one another from the corners of their eyes. 

Otabek was flushed with alcohol and the long line of JJ’s body against his own as they lay together on the ancient quilt. The tension between them crackled like the fire, yet neither boy managed to make the first move.

The moment was broken by a buzz; despite JJ’s thorough reapplication of repellant, another mosquito bit Otabek, and he cursed. “Let’s go back to the cabin. I’m getting eaten alive out here.”

JJ elbowed him in the side. “I told you, you have sweet blood!”

Otabek sat up. “Whatever, let’s go inside. I don’t want the Wendigo smelling my sweet blood and deciding to eat me.” He was beginning to regret coming out here. He was covered with mosquito bites and sexually frustrated. Even 300 kilometers north of Montreal, Jean-Jacques Leroy was still far too repressed to acknowledge the sexual tension that had been simmering between them all year. 

“It’s summer. There’s no Wendigos in the summertime.” JJ grinned. “We do have Bigfoot, though.”

“Whatever. I don’t want Bigfoot to eat me.”

JJ chugged his beer and belched, eyes glinting with humor. “I wouldn’t mind getting eaten out by Bigfoot.”

Otabek almost choked. “That’s not what I said,” he sputtered.

JJ grinned and winked. “I know what I said. I would bang Bigfoot.” 

Otabek quirked an eyebrow.

“What, why are you looking at me like that? You know what they say about big feet...” 

He had to chuckle at that. “Shut up, Jean-Jacques. You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!” JJ protested, lurching forward on the quilt. “Well, maybe I’m a little drunk. But I’m sober enough to consent.”  He licked his lips lasciviously. “If Bigfoot were here, I would totally bang him, right now!”

“So you’re into that?”

“Into what?” 

Otabek stepped closer. “A big, hairy, manly man.” He was certainly neither hairy nor big: Otabek’s chest was hairless, and he had yet to grow any more facial hair than a patchy moustache. He was shorter than JJ by six inches, but broader, yet Otabek was certain he could  use his breadth to his advantage to bring JJ down. He stood on tip-toe to bump his thick chest against JJ’s, making sure that the other man could feel the power coiled in Otabek’s muscles, which were taut as a predator waiting for the right prey before he pounced.

JJ shivered and licked his lips, his spine softening into a slump. His grey eyes gazed down at  Otabek’s, yet somehow gave the impression of looking  _ up.  _ It made Otabek’s belly burn. How wonderful it was to see proud King JJ so humbled. He reached out a hand to rest on JJ’s shoulder, right at the base of his neck. He did not push or squeeze, instead, he let JJ get used to the pressure, a pressure that said,  _ I could, but I won’t. Not yet. _

JJ exhaled, and Otabek felt his breath as it passed through his windpipe.Then JJ spoke. “He wouldn’t have to be hairy. Or big.” His words vibrated against Otabek’s fingertips so strongly he was sure he could feel it in his dick. “Just manly.”

Otabek’s fingers tightened around JJ’s collarbone. “You want a man to take you.” He guided JJ down with gentle pressure, until he was on all fours, face just inches away from where Otabek’s cock had begun to bulge beneath the fabric of his slacks. He kept his hand tight around JJ’s nape, fingers and thumb wrapping along the sides of his neck. “I can, if you’ll let me.”

JJ was quivering beneath him, the shadow of his long lashes darkening his eyes. He made a whimpering sound, then pressed his face next to the Otabek’s cock. He made no move to suckle him, only opened his mouth and  _ exhaled _ . His breath was hot and wet, even through the rough fabric of Otabek’s cargo pants, and Otabek tightened his grip on JJ’s neck, mashing his face against his cock. 

“Yeah,” JJ whined a string of nonsense and flipped himself up on his knees to reach for Otabek’s zipper, “yeah, fuck, c’mon--”

He let JJ unzip him while he kicked off his shoes. With JJ’s help, he shimmied out of his pants, wearing nothing but his sweatshirt and socks. He loomed over JJ, just a bit, enough to make him tremble just a little more.

“I knew it was big, Beks, but I didn’t think it would be this big...” His eyes were wide with fake innocence.

Otabek slapped his cock against JJ’s cheek. He knew he was big, he knew that JJ had been looking and  _ wanting _ . “You like it, slut. You said it yourself, you want a  _ big, manly man _ .” He smirked, then pushed JJ back on all fours, this time lying against JJ’s back to force him down with the weight of his body. He humped down; the denim was rough against his sensitive skin, but the image of his naked cock against JJ’s clothed ass was so obscene that it made Otabek grind against him harder, gripping JJ by the belt loops to push his ass closer.

“Fuck yeah, I love your big cock,” JJ moaned, voice hitching.

Otabek palmed the bulge where JJ’s penis was straining against his zipper. It had to hurt, to be so hard in such stiff fabric, but all JJ did was whimper softly. He did not even attempt to thrust into Otabek’s hand; his submission was so complete that it sparked something dangerous in Otabek’s subconscious. He grasped JJ’s jeans by the belt loops and yanked the loose denim over his ass, not even bothering to unbutton the fly, before leaning in to suck a line of harsh kisses along JJ’s jaw.

JJ’s hair smelled like grease and woodsmoke, his skin tangy with salt and yeast against Otabek’s tongue. He hadn’t showered since they’d left Montreal, insisting that a daily swim in the river would suffice, and his skin was pungent in Otabek’s mouth. And when he finally pushed  JJ’s pants down to his thighs, Otabek could smell him--a raw, animal musk, a smell that sat so close to his skin that the river couldn’t wash it off. JJ’s underwear was damp against his dickhead, nearly transparent from the way his cock was leaking.

“You’re so hard,” Otabek growled. JJ made a choked sound in response. “Any man could come out of the wild, and take you like this,” Otabek panted, pushing JJ’s jeans and briefs to his knees. The fabric trapped him in the position into which Otabek had arranged him, on his knees with his ass in the air and his legs spread, and Otabek squeezed the wet head of JJ’s dick. “You’d let him.”

JJ keened and tossed his head back, arching his spine with an animal sound. “Yeah, fuck, Beks, give me your big dick--”

Otabek put his hand over JJ’s throat to cut him off, then pressed his dick into JJ’s balls as he began to stroke his own dick. His knuckles knocked against JJ’s testicles as he jerked, which slapped gently against his thigh. As Otabek stroked, he rubbed his cock along the curve of JJ’s glutes. His asscheeks were covered in a down of fine hairs, which grew thicker and darker the closer they got to his crack. While his asshole was pink, it was surrounded by a ring of coarse black hair that rasped against Otabek’s uncut cockhead with a little bit too much friction.

Fuck, he was going to have to get JJ wet, and he wasn’t willing to use the butter they’d used for cooking their fish on the campfire as lube--the cleanup would be too annoying. Otabek slid his cock sideways, slapping it against JJ’s ass in a series of smacks, then pushed his shoulders down to raise his ass up, close enough for Otabek to lean down and huff between his legs, taking a deep breath. JJ smelled ripe, like sweat and something undeniably masculine that made Otabek’s mouth water, and he leaned down and spat right over the pink, clenching muscle.

The sudden wetness made JJ startle and kick back a foot, narrowly missing Otabek’s knee, who responded by slapping JJ’s flank and pushing open his cheeks, forcing him to keep still. He spat twice more onto JJ’s hole, watching it spasm before leaning to press his chest against JJ’s broadly-muscled back, and slipping his dick back into the warm, wet crevice between his cheeks.

JJ whinnied, tossing back his head. “Oh, fuck, Beks--”

“You can scream, you know. No one would hear you,” Otabek said, his free hand snaking forward to stick his fingers into JJ’s mouth. His jaw was slack, and open wide, and Otabek forced his fingers down until they touched his throat. He was not surprised when JJ gagged, and he did not remove them until JJ’s eyes rolled back in a near-swoon. 

JJ gasped for air, breathing quickly and shallowly, trying to force as much air as he could into his lungs. Otabek caressed down JJ’s body, leaving a slick line of saliva on his back until it grasped his hip. He spoke his next words onto the nape of JJ’s neck. “You’d try to run, but he’d bite you, force you to stay and take his cum--” He swiped his tongue onto the knob of JJ’s spine, opened his mouth, then snapped his jaw closed.

It was not a hickey--Otabek did not bother with sweet teasing sucks. Instead, he bit deep into the thick muscle of JJ’s neck, until the could feel the pressure of his teeth through the flesh, then twisted the skin in his mouth. Tomorrow, the individual marks of Otabek’s teeth would be unmistakable. Anyone who saw would  _ know _ .

JJ keened, the sound shrill and animal in the tundra as Otabek released the mouthful of flesh. “Yeah, scream for him,” Otabek said. “Scream, but it won’t matter. He’s gonna make you make him come, no matter how loud you cry--”

A howling sound pierced through the night. It took Otabek a startled moment to realize that it had come from JJ and not a wolf or other tundral predator. God, was  _ this  _ what JJ had been waiting for--to be ravished by something primitive, nearly animal? No wonder Otabek’s tentative attempts to ease him out of the closet had failed. 

“He wouldn’t even talk to you,” Otabek said, “just grunt, and growl...” He let his voice get rough on the words, rumbling deep and feral in his chest as he thrust his cock between JJ’s cheeks.

JJ continued making those primal sounds, stroking his penis with quick, tight movements as Otabek humped harder against him. Otabek answered with groans and grunts of his own, which he interspersed with mouthfuls of JJ’s neck and shoulders, the kind of bites whose marks would not linger long. 

As JJ got closer to orgasm, his smell got stronger and sharper. Otabek could hear the precum leaking from JJ’s dick from the way his foreskin squelched in his hand, could smell it too. He humped harder, grunting ferally with each thrust, his balls smacking JJ’s.

It stung, but JJ mewled, a softer, more tender sound. Otabek growled in his ear: “You like when it hurts, don’t you, slut.” It wasn’t a question, and JJ shivered and made that submissive sound again. 

Otabek grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head back enough for Otabek to steal a kiss. He bit into JJ’s mouth, forcing him to open wide and let Otabek ravage his mouth with his tongue. JJ remained still and slack-jawed, his tongue motionless until Otabek prodded it to life with his own.

JJ did not try to lick his way into Otabek’s mouth--instead, he took the kiss Otabek gave him, winding his tongue around Otabek’s, pulling him deeper as he pushed his hips back to meet Otabek’s thrusts. He was supporting both their weight on one hand; the other was in between his legs, stroking himself slowly yet rhythmically, the sound of his fist on his penis, filthy and slick between them.

Otabek withdrew his tongue from JJ’s mouth to sink his teeth into the inside of his lower lip until JJ whimpered. But Otabek didn’t let go--he locked his jaw around JJ’s lip until he felt something  _ give _ . Blood burst into his mouth, and Otabek licking into his mouth one last time to savor the high-pitched whine JJ let out when he tasted his own blood. Releasing JJ’s hair, Otabek took him by the hips, and slammed his cock into the warm crevice between JJ’s cheeks with a frantic pace. Their testicles smacked together roughly, and then JJ screamed--

The sound echoed out in the emptiness around them, halfway between a howl and something human. JJ’s body shook from the force of it, his face locked in a grimace that made him look like a snarling animal as he came.

Otabek let out a roar and buried his teeth in JJ’s shoulder, biting hard enough to leave marks as his hips snapped. He came between JJ’s cheeks, some of his come splattering the small of his back, the rest against his balls and thighs, as JJ palmed himself, lazily stroking his still half-hard dick to ease out the last bit of semen. He’d come onto the quilt, his semen streaked over half the blanket, but that didn’t dissuade him from lying down in his own mess belly-first, Otabek sinking down on top of him.

The night was quiet again, the sound of buzzing insects and their panting breaths the only sounds in the darkness. The fire had burned down into a pile of glowing coals which cast a soft orange glow over JJ’s skin, and Otabek could see the twin marks of his bite at the crook between his neck and shoulder. His softening penis throbbed appreciatively, but it was too soon for him to get hard again.

JJ lay boneless and fucked out, glowing in a way that couldn’t have been the fire alone. Otabek felt a surge of pride, as he’d been the one to make JJ look like this. He lay his head on the taller man’s shoulder, drawing him close around the waist. Otabek peppered soft kisses to where his bite had bruised the skin, as JJ nuzzled closer to him. Otabek felt like maybe he should say something, but he couldn’t find the words in either French or English, the languages he and JJ shared. He settled for humming a soft melody, not unlike a wordless lullaby, as for he waited JJ’s breathing to slow.

His thoughts were interrupted by a buzzing sound. A mosquito had landed on JJ’s bare ass, and Otabek didn’t even think before bringing his palm down to slap it away.

JJ winced and cried out. “Ouch!”

“Sorry,” Otabek whispered. He rubbed the red handprint he’d left on JJ’s right cheek in a soothing motion. “There was a mosquito.... Guess I’m not the only one with sweet blood.”

“Well,  _ you _ would know,” JJ said, reaching up to wipe away the smear his blood had left against Otabek’s chin. There was a red smear on his own chin that shone wetly in the firelight, and Otabek leaned in to lick it away.

He smacked his lips. “The sweetest,” he proclaimed, and JJ laughed loudly. Something howled in the distance, and Otabek did not miss the dangerous gleam in JJ’s eyes as he tipped his chin to the sky to answer with an animal noise of his own. The darkness moved, and a moment later, the howl echoed again--closer this time.

Otabek shivered. Whatever it was, it had to have answered JJ’s call, and it was drawing closer. He and JJ made eye contact, dressing quickly. They abandoned the dying fire and the dirty quilt as they raced back to the safety of the cabin, managing to deadbolt the door just before a third howl sounded, this time so close that they could hear its hunger. The tundra was quiet for a long time after that.

Though they crawled into JJ’s bed together, neither boy managed to sleep until dawn broke. And neither boy ever mentioned the claw marks that they found slashed onto the heavy cabin door in the morning, either. The tundra had its secrets, but JJ and Otabek would keep a few of their own.

**Author's Note:**

> me to the muse: "let's finish the next chapter of 'If I Can't Find You There'"
> 
> the muse: "ok we can do that but first imma make you write 4,000 words of bigfoot roleplay"
> 
> the muse is a filthy slut with a cryptid kink, go ahead, kinkshame her....


End file.
